Storm Damage

I stood in the kitchen doorway, looking at the disaster in front of me. My flashlight lanced through the darkness finding my favorite chair, now little more than a lump of broken wood and fabric in the corner, at least the parts of it that you could still see sticking out from under splintered truss, shingles, sheet rock, and oh yes, really big tree parts. Pieces of debris that were hardly recognizable littered the destroyed family room as well as a good part of the kitchen and living room. Insulation, splinters of wood and chunks of sheetrock covered the kitchen floors and counters, with the living room in similarly disastrous condition, where the wind had spread debris from the addition into the main portion of the house. My huge plasma TV that I had enjoyed watching so much was a huge pile of shattered glass, a long section of two by four sticking through the wall where it had once been hanging. The slashing rain poured in through the mostly missing roof and outer wall as the wind whipped the branches of the huge tree that had turned my cozy home into a war zone. The darkness thankfully hid most of the damage from my eyes, allowing the devastation to sink in one circle at a time, as the rain quickly soaked into my pajama bottoms and slippers. I knew from years as a firefighter that daylight would give me the complete shock.

I spent the next several hours working by lantern light, nailing tarps over the openings from the destroyed addition to the rest of the house, covering my equipment in the exercise room and trying to reclaim what I could from the wind and rain. Daylight broke shortly after the summer storm, allowing me to see the full scope of the devastation. I had spent months building the addition, laying hardwood and putting up sheetrock and fussing over each piece hardwood trim. Each piece of destroyed trim wood represented at least a half hours worth of labor, sanding, fitting, staining, polyurethaning and finally putting into place. I spent much longer on the task than most people would have, but I enjoyed every minute of it, and I knew every flaw in the project, from the one oak floor plank near the wall that accidently didn't get nailed down and had a tendency to shift a few fractions of an inch, to the slight gap in the pine wood work behind what used to be a handmade oak entertainment center. Now that too was a total disaster. Thank god for good insurance!

I walked around the outside of the house, surveying the devastation. The hundred plus year old tree along the tree line next to my house had been snapped off like a toothpick. The base section clearly looked twisted and shredded, along with several other smaller trees. Smaller was a relative term here, the large tree being more than three feet in diameter with foot diameter branches larger than most of the trees growing near it. The only thing that I knew that could cause this kind of carnage to this size tree was a tornado, which meant I was actually pretty lucky. I hadn't even heard a storm warning and was still sound asleep when I felt my whole world rock. The whole end of the house where I had added on looked pulverized above the foundation. The walls that weren't flattened were shoved out or down by the collapsed roof, the trunk of the huge tree stuck out the side of the house like some kind of grotesque appendage. I almost laughed thinking that the tree looked like it was trying to fuck my house... Better to laugh than cry.

The insurance adjuster made pretty good time, getting there shortly after the power company arrived to set a new pole to replace what was left of the splintered one. We walked around the structure and through it as he took notes and pictures. He offered me hotel stay, which I decided to refuse, most of the house being livable yet. Before he left he gave me a sheet of known reputable contractors, and had transferred $40,000 into my checking account to get started with, telling me to keep my receipts it would all be covered, including $20 per hour for any labor I did. Thank god for replacement cost coverage. He told me it was up to me how much I wished to contract and how much I wished to do myself, understanding that I had done all this work myself the first time. The tree service he arranged arrived shortly after he left, and I stood and watched while it took them nearly five hours to remove a tree that the storm tossed in a few seconds.

That night I sat alone on my bed watching the small 20" TV and eating a McDonalds burger, most of my food being spoiled by the nearly ninety degree heat and the twelve hour loss of power, not that I had anyplace to cook it at the moment. I finally fell asleep from exhaustion well before the evening news came on.

The next morning broke sunny and pleasant, with temps in the high seventies at sunup. The birds chirping finally woke me and I got started on my day. First order of business was to contact a maid service to help me clean the mess up. That took all of five minutes. The contractor was a bit more of a problem. I looked at the long list and did a few quick web searches. One in particular looked pretty good, specializing in renovations and reconstruction for thirty years. Sounded good to me so I called and made an appointment with the receptionist for them to come see the damage that afternoon. They were from the city, over a hundred miles away, but didn't seem to be bothered by that.

The maid service arrived about an hour later. I was already hard at work sorting through things and deciding what in the living room could be salvaged and what was going to have to go. I was initially startled when I heard the knock on the door, but quickly recovered and showed two good looking ladies of Latin origin, into the living room. One of them spoke English well, but the other required a bit of translation, and I am not a foreign language speaker at all. I showed them what needed to be done and the two quickly got their equipment and went at it, picking up pieces of wood and sheet rock to expose the insulation covered floor. That damn paper insulation turned out to be a real bitch once it dried. The ladies resorted to using plastic scrapers to get most of it up and then scrub brushes to work the remaining mess from the hardwood and tile.

I didn't pay all that much attention to them at first. They were both in their thirties, a few years younger than I was, well, maybe more than a few, and both were pretty well endowed in the breast department. I was working on sorting out wet books from the living room bookcases as one of them, Lania I think her name was, scrubbed insulation on her hands and knees. I had the air going, but it really didn't do much good in this part of the house, most of the cool air dumping out of the broken duct work inside the smashed attic. The eighty plus degree humid atmosphere was making all of us sweat and I was beginning to sweat even harder as I watched her large tits, apparently braless, swinging around inside her t-shirt, wet with sweat and wash water. She saw me staring at her and smiled politely as she rocked back on her knees to stretch her back. I don't think she realized how visible her tits were to me through the wet material as it pulled tight across her chest as she rolled her arms and shoulders back to stretch the muscles that had to be getting stiff.

She smiled back at me as she finished her stretch. For my part I was only wearing a pair of workout shorts and work boots because of the heat, and there was an immediate stiffening in certain of my parts as well. I tried not to be obvious as I briefly fantasized about how she would look working naked. Amazing what your mind will do when you haven't had any sex for months.

I tore my eyes from her and went back to inventorying the damaged books while she once again went to work on the floor. The next time I looked over she had her back to me and was scrubbing away, her butt making small circular motions as she worked, a continuous stream of words I didn't understand flowing between the two rooms.

"God I'd love to fuck you that way. Just slide those shorts down and fill you with my big dick!" I said quietly as my hormone induced fantasy kicked back in and I briefly pictured myself kneeling behind her and pulling her shorts down to stuff my dick into her pussy. I hadn't had any real sex in quite some time, and for some reason this lady was really turning me on. That fantasy ratcheted up significantly as her partner walked into the room from the kitchen, where she had been working, wiping sweat from her face and neck with a rag, her shirt having been discarded in favor of a tube top. They conversed in a language that sounded to me like Spanish, but then I don't speak Spanish so how the hell would I know. What I did know was that it was getting close to lunch time and I was hungry and horny.

"Would you ladies like some lunch?" I asked Rose, the one that spoke English.

"Thank you, no. We brought some lunch." She answered with a smile. "You can do whatever you need to, we'll just keep working."

"Ok." I said with a shrug as I got up, tying to make my hardon not as obvious. I thought I saw Rose's eyebrow go up as I walked past her, heading down the hall to my bedroom. If I was going to go get some food I wanted to take a shower first. I was dirty and sweaty. I closed the door to my bedroom and stripped off my boots, socks and shorts and turned the water for the shower on. I let it run cool, to cool me off in more ways than one, but the second wasn't having much effect. I felt like jacking off just to relieve the pressure, but passed on it, deciding I was being silly. I turned the water off and stepped out. The towel that I usually kept on the rack next to the shower wasn't there. It was then that I remembered I had tossed it into the laundry room last night after using it to dry the rain off of my soaked body. I looked around and decided I could get dressed wet or I could try to get a towel and dry off. I opened the bedroom door and looked down the hall. The ladies were obviously working, so I made a quick dash for the linen closet in the hall and was just pulling a towel from the shelf when Lania came around the corner with a bucket, heading for the guest bathroom to fill it in the tub. She stopped dead in her tracks while I froze. I wasn't sure who was more embarrassed, her or me. I finally recovered and covered my hard dick and bare ass with the towel and walked quickly back to my bedroom. I thought I saw her smile at me as I closed the door.

Now I was really horny. I don't know why, but I was. I dried off and then using a squirt of hand cream, quickly stroked myself off to a quick climax, just to relieve the pressure, squirting my cum in long strings across the towel. I wrapped the towel up and tossed it into the hamper and then pulled on clean clothes before heading out to get some lunch. Both ladies were hard at work when I left.

I had a leisurely lunch at McDonalds, enjoying the air conditioning, before returning to the sweat box to work. Both ladies smiled and Rose said hello with a huge smile while Lania said something that I presumed was hello. I headed back to the bedroom to change and stripped off my clean stuff and picked my shorts up off the side of the hamper to put back on. I was momentarily at a loss. I was pretty sure I had tossed my towel into the hamper, but it was laying on the floor next to it. Living alone usually means things are where I leave them, so when they aren't, I notice. I picked up the towel to drop it back onto the hamper and then pulled my short on. I stepped over and sat down on the bed to pull my boot on, reaching up to scratch my nose as I did. I recognized the scent. It was definitely female! I finished pulling my boots on and then stepped over to the hamper and pulled the towel out. Holding it to my nose I gave it a good sniff, and sure enough it smelled like pussy. There was a spot near the corner that was much wetter than the rest and sure enough, it smelled strongly of pussy juice. One of the ladies had borrowed my towel for the same purpose I had last used it. I briefly wondered if they were sniffing my cum while they got off. The thought made my dick grow even harder. It was going to be pretty obvious now. I briefly thought about putting some underwear on to hide it and decided, hell no! Let them see it.

I walked out past the ladies, my hormone levels allowing me to show off more than I normally would. Lania defiantly saw the outline of my cock through my shorts as I stepped past her. She continued to scrub the tile and wood as I headed back to the book case. I looked over after a little while and saw her working, her head pointed in my direction again. Her large tits were swinging around inside her shirt, which appeared to be a bit wetter than it had before.

"God your tits look good enough to fuck." I said, confident she had no idea what I was saying.

She looked up and smiled, sitting up on her knees again and stretching her arms high in the air to stretch her muscles. Her rock hard nipples were fairly visible as she pulled the material tightly across them. She put her arms down and stood up, stepping around the bucket so her butt was facing me and bent over to pick it up. I could have sworn that there was a dark spot between her legs.

"god what a nice looking ass." I said as she picked up the bucket and headed out the back door to dump the water as I went back to my work. I had the book case I was working on about empty when she returned with a fresh bucket of water, her shirt looking much wetter than when she had left. I looked over at her and got a smile as she began washing the floor again, her tits moving against her wet shirt. This was the kind of thing that fantasies were made of, which of course made my dick even harder.

I finished emptying the book case and Lania got up and came over with her bucket and rag and stood next to me, as she washed the shelves off for me. As she worked up the shelves to the higher ones her wiggling tits worked against tighter and tighter material. I knew I was staring, but I really couldn't help myself. I wanted to just reach out between her legs and stroke her pussy as the wetness of her shirt gave me a clearer view of her large tits.

"You are one hot looking woman. And what a pair of tits. I wonder if your pussy looks as good as your tits. Too bad I can't see you naked." I said to her, the perpetual smile still on her face.

I knew that touching her could really cause me a lot of trouble so I stood there with my hands on my hips, watching her tits wiggle. She finished the first set of shelves and then moved to the second, moving herself closer to me. She squatted down to get to the bottom shelves, hiking the legs of her shorts up as she did. The loose shorts hung around her legs and as I stood there, her movements of washing the shelves off worked the material closer to her crotch until I could see whisps of dark brown hair. She reached higher, doing the next two shelves. Part way through she reached between her legs to scratch her thigh, and in the process her arm pushed her shorts slightly to the side exposing her pussy lips to me. I thought maybe she was doing it on purpose but I had no real reason to think that she should be, it was purely my imagination, but then my dick didn't care and the bulge in my shorts increased while she worked. THAT she couldn't possibly miss, although she seemed to be ignoring it.

I lost the view of her pussy as she stood up to do the higher shelves, but stayed where I was and allowed her to press her body against mine, trapping me between her and the living room wall. There was simply no way that I could hold back after that display and I let my right hand slide between her legs and gently stroke her pussy through the shorts. Instead of getting slapped, which was my first worry, she let out a small moan, encouraging me to slide my hand inside the leg of her shorts and feel her bare lips. I stroked her wet lips, bringing yet another moan from her as her washing stopped and she just stood there holding onto the shelves as I worked my fingers deeper between her lips. I stroked her pussy for some time, sliding my finger alternately deep into her and then up her slit and across her clit. I knew she was getting close to bursting, but I wanted more than to just watch her. I took my hand from her pants, drawing a glare from her. I held my finger to my lips in a shushing motion and then backed away, motioning for her to come with me. Her glare turned to a smile as we snuck down the hall to my bedroom, closing the door behind us. She wasted no time pulling her shirt off and then pushing her shorts down, stepping out of them to leave herself naked except for her small canvas tennis shoes. She knelt in front of me and pulled the front of my shorts down and quickly wrapped her hand and lips around my raging hardon. I reached down to her swaying tits as she worked my dick, gently lifting and squeezing them, her hard nipples pressing against my palms. I was way past caring if we got caught now, and lifted her by the arms. She looked at me quizzically for a moment before understanding that I didn't want her to stop because she was doing something wrong, I wanted her to stop so I could fuck her. She stepped to the bed and bent over, leaning on the mattress with her elbows, sticking her butt out at me. She moved her feet apart to spread her legs and looked back at me expectantly. I shuffled over to her and pressed the purple head of my dick to her wet pussy and slid easily deep into her. She moaned loudly as I started stroking into her hot pussy, our bodies slapping together with each stroke. This kind of thing only happened in fantasy stories, which made the encounter all the more hot. She started to cry out things I didn't understand as she neared her climax. I'm not sure who started first, what I do remember is that my dick erupted about the same time she cried out and her body convulsed. Shot after shot of pent up cum emptied into her while her body shook and spasmed around me.

"What the hell?" I heard from behind me, startling me so bad that I pulled from the pussy I was buried in, spouting the last few shots of my cum across her ass and on the floor instead of in her waiting pussy.

Rose stood in the door, staring at the two of us, Lania still bent over panting and talking to no one in particular in her foreign tongue. Finally Lania straightened up and turned to face her work partner and the two exchanged rapid fire words before Rose stomped off down the hall. I had no idea what was said, but I did get the general gist from their body language. Lania stepped back over and hugged me tightly, squeezing her tits to my chest. She whispered something I didn't understand and then kissed me gently before releasing me. She stepped over to the hamper and reached in and pulled out the towel and a pair of ladies underwear that I hadn't noticed. She spread her legs and wiped the cum from her pussy and ass and then tossed the towel into the hampar. She stepped into the panties and pulled them up her legs, followed by her shorts. She turned to face me and winked at me before pulling her t-shirt on over her head, covering her beautiful full breasts. With a final smile, she walked out the door leaving me standing there with my shorts around my ankles. I shook my head and pulled my shorts up and headed down the hall after her. By the time I got back to the living room Lania was back at work scrubbing the insulation from the floor on her hands and knees. I walked outside into the hot sun, wondering what repercussions this would have.

I was about to head back in when a pickup pulled into the drive. The sign on the side said "Romburg Construction". My contractor was here. An older gentleman got out of the truck, a few years older than me, and moved toward me to shake hands.